Butterflies & Hurricanes
by basketkitty
Summary: Claire Tolbert's life is falling apart. Barely able to take it anymore, she decides to move away, not realizing that her life will soon become even more hectic. Cliff X Claire X Doctor X OC. Longfic.
1. Hope?

"Those jerks!"

A young woman stamped into her apartment, tossed her bag onto the floor, and threw herself onto her bed, burying her face into a pillow. Her body shook with sobs as the day's events replayed through her mind. She couldn't believe it, she just couldn't believe it... A few minutes later she sat up, counting off all the terrible things that had happened to no one in particular.

"First, I get fired, then I find out that m-my fiancé was with another girl the whole time, a-and now," she sniffled, wrapping her arms around her knees, "now, I don't have enough money to even stay here... What's the use of living anymore?" she sobbed, falling into pieces again. Why? Why did life have to be _so_ unfair?!

"Mama..." she whispered, after several hours of tears. Her voice was broken, her eyes stinging, and she needed a drink. "Mama... I need you..." she murmured again. She took a deep breath, knowing that she would most likely not see her mother again. She looked up from her reverie, to the sound of the phone ringing. Her voice wouldn't work if she were to answer it however, thus she just left it to ring.

As the phone began ringing for a second time, the woman stood up, rather shakily. She made her way to her tiny, nearly empty fridge, and poured herself a glass of water. As she sipped it, the newspaper on the table from the morning caught her eye. She walked over to it, and scanned the page for a bit, until a small ad snatched her attention. She placed the cup on the table, and leaned down, examining it more.

_'Tired of your life? Sick of your home? Bored with your job? Then come live in Mineral Town! With friendly neighbors, relaxing outdoors, a quaint town, and more festivals than you can shake a stick at! Just call 555-2935!'_

The girl continued gazing at the ad, not reading the text. Almost a minute later, she straightened up, finished her water, and picked up the phone. She dialed the number that was on the ad, and took several deep breaths as she waited for the person to answer.

_Riiing...riiing...riiing...rii-Click!_

"...Allo?"

"Uh, um... Y-yes," the woman cleared her throat, and tried again. "Yes, I...I was calling about th-the ad in today's newspaper... The one about Mineral Town?"

"Yes?"

"Um, may I ask how much it is to move there?" she inquired.

"500G," the voice across the phone answered.

"..." she was silent for awhile, staring at the ground.

"Hello? Miss?"

"Oh, sorry... I'm just surprised at how cheap it is, that's all..."

"It is more for the farm. 1500G in total if you wish to move in there."

She clutched the phone in both hands. She only had about 1500G in the bank, but that would only be enough to pay this week's rent. Although, if she were to sell everything she had, except a few necessities, she could easily come up with the amount to buy the farmland!

"I'll take it!" she cried out, excitedly.

"Ah! Thank you, ma'am. Just drop the payment at the Mayor's house when you come. Ahh... And when should we be expecting you?"

She thought for a bit, again. "Um, how about a week from now?"

"A week. Okay, thank you for your business!"

_Click! ...Beeeeep…_

The phone slipped from her hand into the cradle, and she laid back down on the bed. A new home, eh? She sighed, feeling immensely better than before. She should probably tell her mother, or her friend... Ah, but her friend had recently gotten a new phone number, and hasn't been able to give it to her... Suddenly, the phone began ringing again. She jumped a bit, then picked the receiver up.

"Hello?"

"Oh, thank God, Claire! Are you okay? I've been trying to call you about five times, now!"

_'I only remember twice...' _she thought bitterly. "Oh. Seymour. Yes, I'm fine."

"Thank God, thank God..." the man breathed.

"Why are you calling?" the woman snapped, anger rising within her. How dare he call her after what he did!

"Claire, darling, why are you mad? Can't I just call up my fiancée whenever I wish?"

Claire sighed, quite aggravated with the man. "Listen, Seymour... W-why don't we go to the park and talk? I...I have something I need to tell you..."

"W-what is it?" the man asked, obvious worry arising in his voice.

"Just...something important. That could change our lives."

"Oh, dear God, Claire! You're not...not..."

"Meet me in an hour, okay?" she interrupted him, then hung up the phone.

She sighed heavily before getting things ready to pack. She didn't have very much. A few outfits, minimal bedding, a couple of dishes, a handful of books... Everything else belonged to the apartment. She looked down at her clothes, which she had worn for the past week, and decided to change into something fresh. Yet, the only thing 'fresh' she had was a pair of dirty, blue overalls. She reluctantly pulled these on however, and went back to packing.

About forty-five minutes later, she straightened up from a box, and stretched. As her eyes flickered over to the clock, a yelp escaped her lips, and she made a mad dash for the door, grabbing her coat and scarf as she passed them. She took the steps two at a time, and didn't even bother with waiting for the bus. Instead, she tore off in the direction of her favourite park, already planning how she was going to break up with her fiancé...


	2. Pain

Seymour leaned back in the bench, his hands behind his head as he gazed up at the leafless trees. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, watching his breath create a cloud in front of him. He didn't really care for winter. It was much too cold. He preferred summer, or maybe autumn. The latter mostly because that was the same season that he had met _her_. Claire Walker. His fiancée.

He held his left hand in front of himself and pulled off his glove, playing with the ring on his finger. It was a simple silver band, with the thinnest line of gold down the very middle. He twisted it around, watching the failing sunlight dance on the silver. How pretty... He jerked his head up, hearing the sound of frantic footsteps heading his way. His eyes lit up as he saw Claire pelting towards him, her cheeks pink from the chilly wind, her jacket flapping out behind her.

"Claire!" Seymour called out, waving excitedly, his heart fluttering with an indescribable feeling. He ran to her, scooping her up in his arms, and leaned down to give her a kiss. To his great dismay and horror, she turned her face away, his lips instead brushing her cheek. "Huh?"

"I'm sorry, Seymour," she mumbled, pushing away. "Sit down." She pointed to the bench, and Seymour complied, quite bewildered by her actions.

Claire took a deep breath and began, talking as quickly as she could before the tears could break through. "Seymour, I loved you ever since I first met you, and I know I will continue loving you. But, I know what you did six months ago. We were together for the past two years, and I don't think I can live quietly knowing that some poor child won't have a father because he was fooling around. Especially when I had a part n the child's life."

Seymour merely blinked at Claire as she finished. "W-what are you talking about?" he asked, though just as the words left his lips, he suddenly figured it out. "Oh, God. Oh, God, no. Claire! Oh, I'm so sorry!" Tears sprang in his eyes, and he fell to the ground, kneeling at her feet, his head bowed. "Please forgive me, I wasn't thinking, I swear!"

"Right," Claire spat, turned away from her love, and let her tears finally fall.

"What do you wish for me to do? How can I get you to forgive me?"

Claire wet her lips, swallowing hard. She looked at her hand, where _her_ engagement band resided. It was very similar to Seymour's; all gold, with a thin strand of silver down the center. She blinked away her tears, and pulled the ring off, dropping it in front of him.

"Marry her. Make the child happy."

"What? But I love _you_!" Seymour scrabbled up, picking up the ring in the process.

Claire then whirled around, striking his face. "Where was the love you felt when you cheated on me, huh? Don't tell me you only now realized your 'feelings' for me just yesterday!? Was all the love that you claimed you felt for me for the past two years just a lie?! Just something so you could lead me on? Well?!" She roared, her eyes flashing.

Seymour held still, his face turned away. His cheek sweltered from where she had smacked him. No one had ever raised their hand to him. Especially not her.

"WELL?" she repeated, hand still ready to hit him again.

"Claire..." he murmured. He hadn't the slightest clue of what he was supposed to say or do. "I'm so sorry... I had forgotten."

"Forgotten about what? Me?" Claire demanded, not moving her position.

"About what I did," he replied, his voice barely a whisper.

She simply glared at him, and spun on her heels again, stomping away a few feet before stopping. "I still love you too, Seymour." And with that, she left him there, alone in the park. The sun was gone now, and in the breathtaking cold, snow slowly floated downwards.

Seymour watched her departing figure, his throat stuck. He clenched his hands, and felt the ring digging into his palm. He opened his hand, staring at the ring for several minutes before pressing his lips against it. "If that is what you wish, fair maiden. So be it." And he straightened up, walking away, his mind on only one thing. He knew _he_ wouldn't be able to be happy without being by her side, but as long as she was happy, then he should be too, right?

"I swear to you, I won't make another mistake in my life," he whispered, and continued on his way.

Claire trudged down the sidewalk, her head bowed against the cold wind and snow. Her steps were extraordinarily slow compared to her run just barely fifteen minutes ago. As she passed by her landlord's office she paused, but only for the briefest of moments. She entered the office, to find it ready to pack up for the night.

"Huh? Uh, sorry ma'am, but we're closing up now, could you come back tomorrow?"

Without looking up, Claire withdrew a checkbook and filled it out, handing it to the man that just spoke. "I'm leaving in a few days. Here's this month's check. Thank you for letting me stay for so long," she mumbled, and stumbled out.

That was the last of her money, but she could live without adequate food and water for a week, right? After all, people could live without those things for...two weeks was it? She pulled her coat closer to herself, her stomach growling loudly from her lack of eating today. She passed by a bum who held out a filthy flat cap, begging for alms. She looked at him with pity, but couldn't give anything to him, and so she just continued on her way, trying hard to keep her mind of her own hunger.

After some time, Claire made it back home, and entered her apartment room feeling even worse than when she first came home. She softly cried at her predicament, whilst getting ready for bed...


	3. Harvest Island Inbound

The next morning, she awoke, and went through the motions of getting ready for work. Getting up, washing her face, getting dressed, eating, then brushing her teeth. But when she got the eating bit, she remembered that she had very little. So instead of making a decent breakfast like she usually did, she just grabbed a stale muffin that she found in the back of the fridge, and a tiny glass of water. When she was finished her meager meal, she packed up a bit more, then started on making a list of prices for the different things.

Hours passed agonizingly slow. Claire jumped up her seat, knocking her chair back in her haste--her frustration. She couldn't stay in this stuffy room anymore. All that was in her mind was thoughts of how her life was a year ago. Before that disaster. Oh, if only she could go back in time! She would try to plan to be with him on that night when he betrayed her, and this crisis would have been averted. Or perhaps, she could go back even further, when she had that discussion with her parents about how she didn't want their help anymore, how she wanted to live on her own.

This thought passed through her head just as she was pulling on her coat, and she kicked out in anger, her foot colliding with the door frame. But she didn't care about the pain that coursed up her leg. The pain in her heart and mind were too much.

"Ugh, enough of this!" she growled, and stamped out the door.

Claire meandered the streets for a bit, letting her habit lead her to her favourite cafe.

"Oh, morning, Claire! It's a rarity to see you here at this time of day, this day of the week, this week of the year!" a chattery clerk welcomed her in.

"Hey, Jake," she sighed, plopping herself into a chair.

"What'll you have today?" he asked, slipping out from behind the counter, a pencil and pad waiting in his hand.

"Nothing for now," Claire replied, waving her hand sadly. "I've got no money, to tell the truth."

"Really?" the man gasped, slipping his writing utensils into his apron pocket. "What do you mean?"

Claire leaned forward, resting her forehead against her arms. "I got fired yesterday."

"What?" he nearly shouted, taking a seat across from her.

"You heard me. I'm still utterly confused by the details, but apparently I was in the way, or some bloody trash like that."

"Ridiculousness! No person fires my best customer!" he clenched a fist, his brow furrowed.

"Yeah, well...it happened. Oh," she lifted her head from the table, "I'm also moving in a few days."

"Away?"

She nodded. "But, I need to sell all my things to get enough money to buy the ticket..."

The clerk looked at her sadly before patting her head as he stood up. "I understand, Claire. You've had such a rough time nowadays... If you need to, go ahead and use the computer. Free of course, and as long as you want."

Claire managed a shaky smile. "Thanks, Jake. You're such a nice guy." She stood up, and gave a him a quick hug before taking him up on his offer and sitting down at a computer.

After doing some calculations for how much she should charge for her belongings, she began doing a bit of research on her home-to-be. After a bit of research, Claire found the website she was looking for. She skimmed through it, not registering some of the boring drivel, until she spotted a small paragraph detailing how long it usually took for a ship to sail to Harvest Island.

"Ooh... Three days. That's not very much time..." she sighed, finished everything else up and shut the computer down.

"How's it going?"

"Fine..." Claire murmured, walking around the cafe inspecting everything.

The man watched her for a short while, a worried look on his ordinary face.

She then turned around, smiling. "Hey, Jake. If you ever have time in the next three days or so, if you can come to my apartment and help me pack and sell stuffs?"

He grinned brightly, nodding. "Sure, that sounds fun! I'll try to see what I can do tomorrow!"

Claire nodded back, still smiling. "That sounds great! Thanks loads. You're a real friend."

She stayed at the cafe for another hour, chatting randomly, having nothing else to do. When she finally returned home, she didn't do anything, just simply lay down on her bed and fell into a dreamless sleep...

The next few days passed by in an insane blur. Claire managed to get everything sold at a fairly reasonable price, leaving her only the clothes on her back, a pair of sleeping clothes, and a hairbrush. Plus 500G to help get her started in her new life.

As she walked down the pathway to the docks she took her time, walking slowly to enjoy the last few moments of the city. In reality, she didn't like the city, but it was her home, so she had a sort of bond with it.

Claire sat down on a small bench, swinging her legs as she awaited for the boat to be loaded. It was a tiny ship, only able to hold about a dozen men including cargo. She wondered if the size of the ship had anything to do with how fast it went, when in the corner of her eyes she noticed a very familiar red-headed man. Her heart lurched a little at the thought of leaving without a proper farewell, although she knew that if she did have to say good-bye to him, she wouldn't be able to leave.

Still, she couldn't help but at least look. And sure enough, Seymour stood a few hundred feet away, gazing at her with confusion. Claire managed a shaky, apologetic smile just as the captain of the tiny boat bellowed that it was now leaving. She jumped up, grabbed her backpack from her feet and ran up the ramp, fighting back her tears. Once she felt the boat moving away from the pier, she looked over her shoulder. She could still see him, standing perfectly still, arms hung limply, his eyes penetrating into her thoughts.

"Good...bye," she whispered and went below-deck.


End file.
